


In Which Sherlock Reads 'Fifty Shades of Grey' and John Suffers

by lizfu



Series: Tumblr Fic (Sherlock) [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cheap shots at Fifty Shades of Grey, Ficlet, Gen, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash If You Squint, passing mention of BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizfu/pseuds/lizfu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="http://lizfu.tumblr.com/post/26000316462/i-was-so-alone-and-i-o-u-so-much">Original tumblr post</a>
</p>
    </blockquote>





	In Which Sherlock Reads 'Fifty Shades of Grey' and John Suffers

**Author's Note:**

> [Original tumblr post](http://lizfu.tumblr.com/post/26000316462/i-was-so-alone-and-i-o-u-so-much)

“This is absolute rubbish, John! How does this even pass for popular culture? The writing is bland and idiotic, the characters boring rehashes of that Twilight dreck, and the ending obvious going by the first page and a half alone! Why did the author feel the need to dump this banal attempt at literary erotica on the rest of us? And what’s more, why has it achieved the level of popularity that it has when there are so many other, better books available? Do the common folk just buy this - this _trash_ because it’s presented in a shiny display in a bookstore? Because the cover appears ‘tasteful’ and vaguely mysterious?”

“…Let me savour this moment. I told you it was trash romance. I _told you_ , Sherlock, and you picked it up anyway.” The smile on John’s face was anything but sympathetic, the gloating git. He was actually deriving enjoyment of Sherlock’s intellectual pain.

Sherlock scoffed. “Please, John. Your opinion on literary matters is hardly reliable.”

“Oh boy, here we go…”

“You were impressed by _The Shining_ , yet failed to recognize the brilliance of _House of Leaves_. You read and _liked_ -” Sherlock wrinkled his nose “- _Harry Potter_ , when the far superior choice would have been _A Series of Unfortunate Events_. You swore on your nonexistent firstborn that _Memoirs of a Geisha_ was a contemporary masterpiece.”

“Hey, now! There’s nothing wrong with _Harry Potter_!”

“Point is, John, that I would go to Anderson before I went to you for a recommendation for my next book club meeting.”

“Wait - you have a book club? And you didn’t invite me?”

Sherlock tossed the book - No - the offense to the literary world into the rubbish bin. “This is unacceptable. Books - and I use the term liberally here - such as this should not be topping the _New York Times Bestseller List_ , much less making it at all.” He spun on his heels, dressing gown billowing dramatically as he turned to face John. “John! Cancel all my appointments and cases for the next week and a half.”

“Wha - Sherlock, why - Oh no.”

“Oh, yes, John.” There was a manic gleam in his eyes that made John cringe and seriously question his life choices up to now. “I am going to write an erotic BDSM literary trilogy with such depth that people will talk about its brilliance for decades to come. It will blow rubbish like _that_ -” He gestured wildly to the bin behind him “- off the critics’ lists and force hack popular writers to retire to a life in the country, raising chickens! _And_ it will be so graphic, so descriptive that even professional dominatrices will blush just reading a paragraph!” 

Sherlock swept (dramatically) past John, picking up the doctor’s laptop and plopping (dramatically) in his chair. Within a matter of seconds, he had cracked John’s new password and soon he was typing away. John sighed and shuffled into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, retrieving _Fifty Shades of Grey_ from the bin as he passed. As deserving as it may have been, it seemed a horrible fate for any book, to be pitched out with the trash. Perhaps he could give it to Mrs. Hudson or sell it to a used bookstore, or (if worst came to worst) he could always drop it at a book drive donation when nobody was looking to spare himself a moment of painful embarrassment and odd looks.

Tea made, John settled down at the kitchen counter with the newspaper, diligently reading each story on each page for something of interest that might distract Sherlock from this madness. _It was a safe madness, though_ , John reflected. It kept Sherlock from doing more dangerous things in his boredom.

The clack of keys had been steady now for half an hour. The sound itself was actually pleasant in the quiet, lazy hours of a Sunday morning. While John would miss the dangerous life of a consulting detective, if Sherlock could really make a career out of writing critically acclaimed erotica, he wouldn’t mind the trade-off. He could get used to mornings like this.

“John.” 

“Hm?”

“I just realized a miscalculation in my plan.”

John smirked. “Oh?”

“I am not well-versed in BDSM.”

“What a surprise.” 

“I will need to research, interview participants, and possibly experience this lifestyle.”

He drowned the chuckled that threatened to bubble from his lips by taking a long sip of tea.

“You may want to put in for vacation, John. A couple weeks should do.”

John blanched. “Why?”

“Because I need you to help me with this. You’re more approachable; people open up to you. And -” Their eyes met across the room. John’s stomach dropped. _Oh no_. “And I’ll need you for the last part, especially. I’ll need you to be my dom.”


End file.
